


In Which Zelda's Ovaries Explode

by HashtagTheyFucked



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Office Sex, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashtagTheyFucked/pseuds/HashtagTheyFucked
Summary: Hilda closes the filing cabinet she had just had her nose in and turns, catching Zelda staring. Zelda holds Hilda’s gaze and takes a long drag of her cigarette, letting her desire be read when Hilda’s magic questioningly nudges the mental walls of her brain. Color starts to creep up Hilda’s neck, but her voice is steady and low when she speaks.“Not in front of the baby, Zelds.”Hilda manages to somehow sound flirtatious and admonishing at the same time.
Relationships: Hilda Spellman/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	In Which Zelda's Ovaries Explode

**Author's Note:**

> I really was trying to think of titles all afternoon, but I ended up just going with my working title lmao. It's just basically the prompt I gave myself and idk how well it represents the actual fic but... ¯\\_ (ツ)_/¯
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Hilda is balancing a toddler Sabrina on her hip and a small mountain of papers in her hand when she waltzes into their office humming. Zelda doesn’t look up from the inventory sheet she’s almost finished with as Hilda goes to their filing cabinets and begins to sort through and put away the paperwork she’s carrying. 

When Zelda gets to the end of the page, she sits back on their little workbench and looks up at Hilda who has her back towards the desk. Hilda’s hips are moving back and forth as she rocks Sabrina and Zelda’s eyes are far too easily drawn there. Since Sabrina has come into their lives full time, the sisters have been alternating constantly between being grief-stricken, exhausted, and overworked-- all the while feeling the strange and stressful form of responsibility that comes from fiercely loving a very small, very fragile being that will one day grow up to make decisions and encounter dangers without you. 

That is to say, they have been far too busy for sex. 

Zelda contemplates this fact as she watches her sister file and hum and sway with their niece in her arms. 

Sabrina has a blonde lock of Hilda’s hair wrapped around her little fist as her head rests on her aunt’s shoulder. Zelda can see that the little girl is on the verge of sleep, her big eyes blinking slowly and heavily as Hilda sways. 

Hilda occasionally interrupts her own humming with little commentaries about the papers she’s putting away. 

“You don’t belong with the death certificates,” she mutters absently at the paper in her hand as she opens a different file drawer to put it in its proper place.

Zelda conjures a cigarette and her holder to give herself something to hide behind as she blatantly checks her sister out. Something about how competently and calmly she’s multitasking with her work and with Sabrina makes Zelda think strange thoughts, not all of them unpleasant. 

She thinks about how natural Hilda looks with a child. It makes her heart ache for something that will never be, but it also makes her stomach swoop in that all too familiar way. Today the heartache is mostly dulled. 

Hilda closes the filing cabinet she had just had her nose in and turns, catching Zelda staring. Zelda holds Hilda’s gaze and takes a long drag of her cigarette, letting her desire be read when Hilda’s magic questioningly nudges the mental walls of her brain. Color starts to creep up Hilda’s neck, but her voice is steady and low when she speaks.

“Not in front of the baby, Zelds.”

Hilda manages to somehow sound flirtatious and admonishing at the same time. 

Zelda, for her part, knows she is already blushing, has been since these strangely sexy and domestic thoughts started swirling around her brain. 

“Isn’t it time for her nap, Hilda?” Zelda asks, knowing full well that it is, knowing that she has already begun to get wet at Hilda’s tone of voice. 

Hilda smiles. 

“Lucky you, sister.”

Hilda starts to walk to the door and Zelda makes to stand up, intending to follow, but Hilda pauses in the door frame and looks back. 

“You wait here.” 

And then Hilda is moving again and Zelda is sure she is not imagining the exaggerated swing of Hilda’s hips. 

Zelda sits down, suddenly full of nervous, anticipatory energy. She stands back up, leans a hip against the desk. She feels like a gangly teenager again, doesn’t know how to arrange her limbs or what to do with her hands. She rounds the desk, perches atop it, crosses her legs at the knee, then at the ankle. She takes a calming drag of her cigarette, then vanishes it, shaking her head at herself as she exhales. She hops off, starts to round the desk to sit back where she had been, only to jump at the sound of Hilda clearing her throat from the doorway. 

Zelda spins around, hitting her hip on the corner of the desk as she does so. She tries to hide her grimace, attempting to look casual, as she puts a hand on the desk and leans her weight on it. 

Hilda is leaning easily against the office door frame, succeeding where Zelda suspects she herself has failed. 

“So,” Hilda pushes herself off of the door frame and slowly makes her way towards Zelda, “was there something on your mind, sister?”

Zelda feels herself flush, but holds her ground. 

“The answer to that is ‘no’ if you’re going to continue to be insufferable,” Zelda says, her pride rankling more than her libido. 

Hilda halts her advance and rolls her eyes. “Well, are we flirting or not, Zelds? Obviously I’m not trying to be insufferable.”

Zelda immediately regrets her tone as Hilda turns to leave, muttering under her breath, “Not as if you mind suffering at my hands, always begging for it after five bloody minutes…” 

Zelda ignores her sister’s muttering, though it makes her blush even harder (mostly because it’s true), and takes a few quick strides after her. She reaches out to grab Hilda’s elbow.

“Wait, Hilda, I’m just… tense, I suppose.”

Hilda pauses, then turns to face Zelda once more, takes a step into her sister’s personal space.

“It has been a while...” 

Zelda swallows and nods. “Yes, it has.”

Hilda leans forward to reach for Zelda and gently rubs her thumb over Zelda’s arm. 

“Shall we just take things a bit slow, perhaps?”

Zelda nods tentatively and places one hand on Hilda’s sternum, slides it up over her shoulder to mirror Hilda’s hand on her arm by rubbing her own thumb over Hilda's neck. Her skin is warm and soft beneath Zelda’s hand and Zelda so badly wants to slide her hand around the back, drag Hilda to her so she can feel that soft warmth beneath her lips. 

Hilda tilts her head to the side and looks up at Zelda from beneath her lashes. A slow smile spreads over her face.

“I’ve missed this,” she says quietly and Zelda feels her heart beat faster. Hilda puts her hands on Zelda’s hips and squeezes gently before guiding her backwards towards their desk.

Before Zelda’s thighs can hit the dark wood, though, Hilda suddenly switches her grip, hooking her fingers under the thin belt over Zelda’s dress and tugging so that their hips press flush together.

Zelda lets out a quiet “oh!” of surprise and her fingers grip the nape of Hilda’s neck. 

Hilda grins wickedly up at her and Zelda has to stop herself from letting out a fluttery, breathless giggle. She bites her tongue, but can feel herself smiling in spite of herself.

Zelda can not resist Hilda any longer and she leans down to capture those perfect pink lips, letting her eyes flutter closed as she goes. 

Only her lips meet nothing but air and she blinks her eyes open in confusion. Hilda is still smiling at her, but leaning back, keeping herself just a hairsbreadth out of reach. 

Pathetically, Zelda feels like whining, but Hilda thankfully speaks up before she can. 

“Slow, remember, Zelds?”

And Zelda has no choice but to nod silently, her throat too dry to respond.

Hilda cranes her neck closer, licks her lips, leaves them parted and keeps her mouth agonizingly out of reach when Zelda leans in. They hover together, breathing each other’s shallow, excited breaths and not kissing until Zelda can take it no longer. 

She digs her nails into the back of Hilda’s neck and tries to pull Hilda to her, but Hilda resists and only chuckles at Zelda’s obvious frustration.

“Stop being such a tease, Hilda,” Zelda grits out.

A full laugh bubbles out of Hilda. “Ask nicely,” she says. Zelda surges forward again, growling as Hilda leans away. “Ah, ah, ah, sister. That’s not how we ask for things we want, now is it?” 

Hilda is using the same voice as she does with their niece and it is impossibly annoying to Zelda that it makes her even wetter.

Zelda feels her face get redder. She squeezes her eyes closed in embarrassment, unwilling to look at Hilda as she’s forced to beg.

“Please let me kiss you,” Zelda manages, her voice coming out much more tremulously than she wants.

“Okay,” Hilda says affably a nd then her lips finally meet Zelda’s.

The kiss is gentle, sweet, and not enough for Zelda. She pulls Hilda closer, and teases her tongue over Hilda’s lips until they part for her. Hilda steps forward as she licks into Zelda’s mouth, and were it not for Hilda’s steadying hands at her hips, she’s sure she would have lost her balance on her suddenly shaky legs.

She had nearly forgotten how well Hilda could kiss. Zelda silently curses her adolescent self for being such a dedicated teacher. She should have held back a few techniques, kept the upper hand for herself.

Hilda’s mouth is so distracting that Zelda hardly notices as Hilda gently backs her into their desk. It isn’t until Zelda needs to break away in order to breathe that she notices the way Hilda is pressing against her, how both of her hands have migrated down to Zelda’s ass.

Zelda drags her lips over Hilda’s soft jaw and down to kiss at her neck.

“Whatever happened to taking things slow, sister?” Zelda murmurs against Hilda’s pulse point.

“Fuck that,” Hilda says roughly, squeezing Zelda’s backside.

Zelda shivers as she nearly always does whenever Hilda swears, and licks a line over Hilda’s throat.

“No," Zelda says, "fuck  _ me _ .”

And Hilda does.

She pushes Zelda back, hoisting her up to sit on the desk as they both fumble to hike up the tight skirt of Zelda’s dress and then Hilda’s fingers are stroking up the inside of her thigh. Zelda spreads her legs as much as she can with her skirt halfway over her hips and pulls Hilda closer between her thighs. She can feel Hilda's arm pressed between their bodies and all she wants is Hilda's fingers against the heat between her legs.

“No more teasing, Hildie,” Zelda says against Hilda’s mouth, “please...” And then Hilda is properly kissing her once more, surging up against Zelda and rubbing her through damp silk. 

Zelda braces one hand behind her on the desk as she cants her hips forward, her other arm slipping around Hilda’s shoulders to keep her close. 

Hilda keeps kissing her and Zelda doesn’t know how she had gone so long without feeling Hilda’s lips against hers. The angle is awkward on her neck, but Zelda can’t tear herself away long enough to fix it.

And then finally Hilda slips her underwear to one side without breaking their kiss and Zelda feels herself go embarrassingly limp under Hilda’s lips and fingers for a moment.  Zelda’s hand upon the desk does little to help keep her upright as Hilda sucks lightly at her lower lip and delicately circles Zelda’s opening. Hilda’s hand at the small of her back saves her from collapsing back completely on the desk. 

Zelda feels Hilda smiling against her mouth and she recovers herself somewhat. Enough to kiss Hilda back properly once more, at least. But even Zelda’s best efforts can’t stop the pleased little giggle that bubbles out of Hilda. 

Hilda eases her back onto the desk, bracing herself on her forearm as she bends over Zelda, still softly laughing at her as their mouths come apart with a soft, wet _pop_. Her laughter turns into a moan as Zelda nips at Hilda’s neck before latching her lips to the soft skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

Then Zelda lays back more fully on their desk, probably crumpling up the paperwork she had just finished, but she can’t bring herself to care as she looks up at Hilda leaning over her. She’s got one leg hooked around Hilda’s waist and the knee of her other leg is at the perfect height for Hilda to move her own leg over it and grind down. Zelda is gratified to feel Hilda do so, matching Zelda’s desperation.

Hilda looks down into Zelda’s eyes as she finally slips one finger inside of Zelda before adding another, her thumb brushing over Zelda’s clit. Zelda’s mouth falls open as she feels Hilda moving inside her, against her, and she’s sure she must look ridiculous, but she can’t help it and she can’t look away from Hilda's face, framed by her bouncing blonde curls.

“You don’t,” Hilda tells her as her arm works between them, thrusting her fingers inside of Zelda.

“What?” Zelda manages to pant, her hips meeting Hilda's hand in a familiar rhythm.

“You don’t look ridiculous,” Hilda says, with a smile that somehow manages to be perfectly sweet, even as she fucks her sister on top of the desk where they greet bereaved mortals.

Zelda feels her face flush from more than just exertion. She tries to roll her eyes dismissively right as Hilda’s thumb presses down suddenly just above her clit. 

“Don’t-- ohh,” her reprimand dissolves into an unexpectedly loud moan, and Hilda’s smile grows. Zelda swallows and manages to pant, “Don’t read my mind,” shakily on her second try.

“Can’t help it, love,” Hilda says, somehow less breathless than Zelda even though she’s doing most of the work, “at least not when I’m inside you.”

Hilda scissors her fingers in Zelda as if to punctuate her statement, and Zelda feels dangerously close to whimpering for Hilda to go back to the perfect rhythm of a moment ago.

“Don’t worry, Zelds,” she says, picking the pace back up seamlessly, “I know what you need.”

“Hilda,” Zelda tries to growl a warning, but even she can’t deny how needy she sounds.

Hilda just leans down to kiss her once more, swallowing Zelda’s whimpers. 

Their mouths break apart, but Zelda keeps Hilda close, clutching at her back, hands fisting her hideous sweater as she begins to tense and shake under her. Hilda keeps fucking her steadily, maddeningly, perfectly as she looks down into Zelda’s eyes.

Her thumb slips to one side of Zelda’s clit and suddenly Zelda’s back is arching almost painfully as she comes, long and hard and wonderful. She screws her eyes shut at the last second, her mouth open as she pants out a series of rather undignified noises as she tries to keep herself from moaning loud enough for Ambrose to hear her down in the basement, or worse, loud enough to wake Sabrina.

She can feel Hilda looking at her face as she fucks her through the orgasm, and Zelda hates that it only turns her on more, knowing Hilda is watching her come utterly undone.

She eventually comes back to herself, falling bonelessly back on the desk. Her head hangs off the edge and she blinks at their upside down office while she catches her breath. She can see that the paint on the windowsill is starting to chip and she makes a mental note that it needs to be redone soon. She idly wonders when the last time they repainted the molding was.

“I think about 30 years back. Wasn’t that around the time Ambrose went on a home improvement kick, trying to do everything with no magic for a challenge?”

With some difficulty, Zelda raises her head and starts to sit up. “What?” she asks, still getting her bearings back.

“The windowsill, Zelds. You think the paint is chipping?”

Zelda is too slow to respond, and then all she can manage is a small wince as Hilda pulls her fingers out of her, unceremoniously snapping her underwear back in place. Hilda moves out from between her legs, licking Zelda‘s juices from her hand as she rounds the desk to have a look. 

Zelda closes her legs and scoots off the desk. She has to adjust her underwear, grimacing as she does so at how utterly undignified the motion feels, before she shimmies her skirt back down over her thighs. 

She looks over at where Hilda is inspecting the windowsill trim, licking her fingers and thumb like she’d just finished the most delicious finger-food-only meal. 

“I thought I told you not to read my mind, Hilda,” Zelda says, smoothing her hands down her front, trying to get rid of the wrinkles in her dress.

“I told  _ you _ ,” Hilda sasses, far too pleased with herself, “I can’t help it when I’m inside of you.”

Zelda can’t even be angry after the orgasm she’s just had. 

“I’ll let Ambrose know. Maybe he can do it on a day when we take Sabrina out somewhere. She’s more witch than mortal, of course, but still. She’s so small and those fumes can’t be good for her lungs.”

Hilda nods and holds out her hand (the clean one, Zelda notes). 

Zelda rounds the desk too and takes it, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden. 

Hilda steps closer to Zelda and looks up at her, batting her eyelashes, overly innocent. Zelda can’t help the fond roll of her eyes before she leans down to kiss Hilda. It’s sweet, less urgent than their kisses on the desk, but as Zelda tastes herself on Hilda’s tongue, desire stirs within her once more. Hilda’s arms come up to rest on Zelda’s shoulders as their kiss deepens. 

Zelda is contemplating whether she wants to eat Hilda out on their workbench, or against the wall, or if she should give Hilda a turn on the desk too... when she hears it.

Tiny babbling sounds from up in the nursery. 

They pause, both looking up towards the ceiling, and the noises cease. Zelda looks back at Hilda. She knows someone should go and check on Sabrina, but she finds herself leaning back towards Hilda’s parted lips. 

Their lips barely brush when Sabrina starts up a thready wail, angry at being neglected for a full thirty seconds of wakefulness.

Zelda sighs, her forehead resting against Hilda’s. 

“Well, go on, love,” Hilda says, giving her one last quick peck, “I was with her all morning.”

Zelda wants to bristle at the insinuation that their niece is anything less than a blessing straight from Hell, but she still feels far too good, thanks entirely to Hilda.

Sabrina’s wailing gets louder and Zelda steps away reluctantly.

Hilda waves her off, sitting down behind the desk.

“Close the door behind you, Zelds, I’m going to be rather busy in here for a while.”

“Please,” Zelda scoffs turning away, “it’s only a few papers to tidy up.”

“Who said anything about tidying?” Hilda asks.

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Zelda gets to the nursery, she scoops a crying Sabrina up into her arms, shushing and rocking her. As the child calms, Zelda carries her down the stairs to the kitchen for a snack, trying not to look over at the closed office door to her right. 

“You’re very lucky you’re so blessedly adorable,” she tells Sabrina as she sits her in the highchair. 

Sabrina merely blows a raspberry in response.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I love a comment! Pls lmk if u liked this!


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